Page 53 of California Sunsets

Erin frowned. It was unlike Pat to call her on the weekend. Or even email, for that matter—she believed in keeping one’s work and personal life separate. She said a quick hello and asked Pat if everything was okay.

For once, her editor sounded like she was working at a hard news daily. “Erin, I need you here at the office. We have to remake the front page.”

“We do? Why?” She had a terrible feeling that one of their main landmarks was on fire, or there had been a terrible road accident.

“That animal shelter you’ve been writing all those heartbreaking articles about? Instead of that final plea for money, the lead story is going to be about how the community pulled together and saved it.”

Erin felt her jaw drop. Trust Pat to make it sound like the zombie apocalypse was upon them when really it was good news. But still, the shock was real. “But we were a million bucks away from being able to save it.”

She heard Pat click a pen. “I know. An anonymous donor gave the whole amount.” Her tone lightened and Erin could almost feel her smile beam down the phone. “Erin, we did it.The shelter’s saved.” Pat Sinclair could be hard and tough on the outside, but as much as Erin loved dogs, Pat loved cats more. She had four at home. One was blind, one was missing a leg, and two were just plain ugly. She rescued the kind of cat that nobody else wanted.

In spite of all the drama that she’d just lived through in the past five minutes, Erin was filled with delight. She told Pat she’d be right in and then hung up. She couldn’t wait to tell Jay.

Bounding a little like the two dogs, she found him still standing in the foyer, his feet bare, his head bowed. “Jay! I’ve got to head into work because—guess what? The shelter’s been saved at the last minute. An anonymous donor just gave a million bucks. Can you believe it?”

His expression was hard to read. “Really? That’s great news. Congratulations. I think it was all those heartrending articles you wrote. You rallied the community.”

But something in his tone made her look at him again more sharply. His gaze reached hers for a moment, then he glanced away.

“Jay?”

He scratched his chin. “What?”

And with absolute certainty, she knew the identity of their anonymous donor. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

He sent her a baffled look, as if he had just forgotten what they were discussing. “What was me?”

She pointed a finger at him, not unkindly. “You’re the anonymous donor.” He started to shake his head, but she said, “I can always tell when you’re lying, mostly because you hardly ever do. But you have a tell. You scratch your chin.”

He looked shocked. “I do?” He glanced down at his hand as if it had betrayed him. “I clearly need to work on losing that if I’m ever invited to another of Archer’s poker nights.”

“Stop avoiding the subject. You gave that money to save the shelter, didn’t you?”

He shrugged as though it was no big deal. Like people just donated a million dollars every day. “Those dogs and cats needed something better. I have the money, so if I can’t adopt them all, why not help them out?”

As much as she loved him for saving all those dogs and cats and rabbits and birds, she almost loved him more for doing it anonymously. Mr. Boastful had learned the power of quiet kindness. And she loved it. She loved him! She was going to figure out a seriously romantic way to tell him—she didn’t care what her stupid brother had to say on the matter.

She ran upstairs to get dressed and when she came down, she said, “Jay, even though I have to go right now, this isn’t over. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

* * *

Jay watched Erin leave with a heavy heart. He had been looking forward to the rest of their date, and had been halfway through making a delicious fig and goat cheese salad for them both when Damien had upended it all. The ice-cold feeling that had gripped him when he saw the depths of Damien’s fury hadn’t thawed. He’d always known that he wasn’t good enough for Erin.

Damien’s furious eyes only proved it—and so had his flying fist.

Erin was, well, Erin Davenport, and he was just no-account scum. He’d proved that too—instead of giving Erin some time and space and then finding the world’s most perfect and romantic way to tell her he loved her, he’d blurted it out in a rage. Not even the donation he’d secretly made earlier that day to the animal shelter could lift his spirits. Or change his conviction.

Nelson must have known something was up. He pushed his nose against Jay’s leg. He took the dog into the back garden for a run and was about to find his favorite yellow ball, when his phone rang. He was so worried that it was Archer or Smith calling to fire him that he almost didn’t retrieve the thing from his pocket. But he had to face up to what he’d done.

To his surprise, it was Betsy. “Jay, I’m inviting you for breakfast tomorrow.”

“But we had breakfast this morning.”

She had her tough mom voice on. “I think we need another family get-together.”

He knew what she was getting at. “I’m assuming this means Damien has told you that he saw Erin here?”

“Sure did. And now he’s got his brothers riled up. It’s all nonsense, of course, but I usually find that facing these things head on is the best way to put them back on an even keel. See you tomorrow. Ten o’clock.” She paused. “And get some rest this evening, Jay. Don’t stay up worrying. I can assure you these things have a way of working themselves out.”

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